


The Dance

by bonthemightybon



Category: The Queen's Gambit (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Chemistry, Chess, Chess Metaphors, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Gentle Kissing, Internal Monologue, Lust, Lust at First Sight, Missing Scene, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Possibly Unrequited Love, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Resolved Sexual Tension, Roommates, Sex, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Smut, Teasing, Two Shot, Undressing, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29019543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonthemightybon/pseuds/bonthemightybon
Summary: “Do you still like my hair?”Benny had been nearly unable to take his eyes off Beth all night.That night in Benny's apartment, episode 6, Adjournment.
Relationships: Beth Harmon & Benny Watts, Beth Harmon/Benny Watts
Comments: 73
Kudos: 193





	1. Speed chess - an exercise in frustration

_“Do you still like my hair?”_

Benny had been nearly unable to take his eyes off Beth all night. At first he had tried to throw his focus into the games, he really had. He liked speed chess. He was good at speed chess. Fuck, he was incredible at speed chess. He loved that such a slow and methodical marathon of a game could become this adrenaline-fueled sprint. He loved the similarities and differences between it and regular chess. He loved to beat people. To really thrash them.

He loved to win.

It wasn’t just about the money, wasn’t even about the game itself. It was an assertion of skill, of superiority, of dominance. It was something you could take away from the board with you, like a trophy. He had liked collecting these trophies from Beth in Ohio, seeing her cool demeanor stripped away, one move, one game at a time. He hadn’t played chess against a woman who was anywhere near his league since he was a kid. Something about their play had felt different. It had always felt different with Beth.

He had almost felt bad for her at first, losing face in front of the crowd in that hot student union. However the crowd had dropped away as he watched her sweat, a vignette forming around her as he thoroughly trounced her, again and again. Benny had an award-winning poker face (chess face?), but even he had had to concentrate not to let his emotions show as she stroked her neck, flustered by his attacks. If he hadn’t read articles about her, hadn’t seen photo shoots, he would have considered her brazen sexuality a tactic to give her an edge - not that it had helped - but it was clear to him that she was entirely unaware of this... distracting stress response. That made sense, since she was so rarely stressed by a game of chess.

The kicker really came when Beth had touched his hair in the bar after her resounding victory two days later. It was immediately obvious to Benny then that it wasn’t a tactic - hell she’d already destroyed him in the competition, no need to psyche him out now. Plus when he had given her a look, feigned confusion tempered by genuine surprise, she had grown shy. If that had been an act then she was wasting her talents on chess. Of course he had realised that she was redirecting the conversation away from her drinking, but the intimate gesture seemed to have surprised even her.

Benny was a flirt, he’d hold his hands up to that. The trophies he took from his games, both real and intangible, leant him an aloof kind of confidence that drew people in, and not just the chess nuts. He had quickly recognised a fellow verbal jouster in Beth, and their competitive conversation had felt easy and natural from early on. She also flirted back, which he enjoyed. She was attractive, which he had of course noticed immediately. He wasn’t blind. But their friendly teasing had drawn him to her on a more subconscious level. She was his equal, loathe as he was to admit it. If he had noticed how dangerous this game between them felt, would he have still invited her to New York? Or had he already known, and let himself ignore his misgivings, charmed by her mixture of genius and innocence?

Now here they were in New York, living together, sharing food and conversation and extremely close quarters. The more they talked chess the more in awe of her he became, and the more they tested the limits of privacy afforded by his ramshackle rooms the more Benny experienced a uniquely pleasant sense of choking. The shape of her, distorted by his glass door, caught in his peripheral vision as she changed, leaving him fighting every instinct to turn towards her. Coming out of his bedroom in the morning to the pink blur of her behind the shower curtain was like the sensation of a first cigarette, sweet, heady smoke filling his throat, his lungs, his bloodstream. Even watching her drink coffee was by now a dangerous exercise for his imagination. Usually when Benny Watts played chess everything but the board fell away. No longer.

And then there was tonight. Beth had beat him countless times by now, but never at speed chess. Even as he first couched the simultaneous to Wexler and Levertov he had felt a dangerous thrill, wanting to see her move that way again, to watch the adrenaline rise in her. He felt a very real twinge of fear that she might beat him this time, one which he attempted to crush with bravado. But even as he tried to ignore the feeling, he couldn’t help but feel strangely excited at the prospect.

And then, with each toppled king, with each hand held out for cold hard cash, each softly spoken “again” he felt his own adrenaline transform into something else. Benny had felt this pull, this draw towards Beth’s unintentional sensuality, many times since he had brought her home from Ohio. But her dominance over the boards, over the two poor saps, over him… It had intoxicated him even as it ignited an almost childish stubbornness, one he saw mirrored in her eyes when he finally decided enough was enough.

“Again.”

“No.”

He had seen her jaw set obstinately just before he forced himself to look away from her powerful gaze. And then her sudden transformation to coy pleasure when Cléo had begun a round of applause… Benny was absolutely mesmerised.

Of course he hadn’t let it show; his own pride wouldn’t let him lose face like that, not in front of his guests. But Cléo had sensed the change in atmosphere. She knew Benny well enough for that. After a few jokes and compliments she had gathered the boys and begun to bustle them towards the door. She had even had the gall to shoot Benny a look over her shoulder as she stepped into the stairwell. Benny had forced himself to ignore it, to close and lock the door calmly.

And then they were alone.

 _Don’t look at Beth_ , something in him warned. He knew his resolve was cracking. His attempt to make himself untouchable by writing off sex, to let Beth know she didn’t have the hold on him she so obviously did, had backfired into a tantalising forbidden lust. Benny was strong-willed to the point of bull-headedness, but Beth was something new. His skin itched, his throat was disobeying his attempts to swallow.

He could feel her where she leant on the railing by the door. He could have felt her anywhere in that apartment without looking, hell he could have sensed her anywhere in the whole city. Her presence pulled his gaze, unbidden.

“What?” She looked smug. He had never been so aroused by something so infuriating. He shook his head, looking away and came back down the stairs into the room.

“Nobody has done that to me in fifteen years.” Benny chewed on his frustration. He tried to keep walking past her but her movement towards him stilled his momentum.

“Not even Borgov?”

“Not even Borgov.” He looked at her again, seeing pleasure colour her face once more at the praise.

“And I’m sober as a judge, as Alma would say.” She smiled, and Benny just stared at her, those eyes, the quirk of her smile. She had him now. She had truly dominated him on the chessboard, truly stolen his power. He was furious. Proud. Frustrated. Exhilarated. Weak.

After a moment he noticed her smile drop. She was gazing right back at him and he realised he had just been looking at her in silence. He felt light-headed and tried to attribute it to the drink, an obvious lie even to himself. He raised his eyebrows, a shaky attempt to dissipate the tension.

“I myself am not.” He forced himself to walk away from her, into his room, trying desperately to put an end to this moment before he lost all control. “Night,” he called out.

He ran his hand through his hair, memories of her doing the same rising uninvited in his mind’s eye. “Night,” she replied, indignance taking the mirth out of the half-hearted laugh in her voice.

_Fuck._

He turned quickly and strode to the doorway..

“Wait, hey.” He caught her arm as she walked past, bracing himself on the doorpost, pulling her back to him. She turned, looking down to where he was touching her, surprised. Benny didn’t touch her much, didn’t want to give the wrong impression, although to Beth or to himself, he could no longer say.

He felt his throat constrict once more as she raised her eyes to his. He was squeezing her arm softly, at a total loss for words. God, he really was weak for her. He just looked into those big, brown eyes, breath coming shallow through his parted lips.

“Yes?” She looked at him, uncertain, like she had no idea what he was thinking. How could someone with such raw sexuality be so naïve about the effect she had on others? How could someone who had just dominated him so thoroughly at his greatest strength not even understand her own power? How could he even begin to put into words what he was feeling?

“Do you still like my hair?”

It came out haltingly, shyly, his breath catching. She had reduced him to a stammering teenager. And then she had the audacity to look confused. Was she really going to make him spell it out? Resolve broken, high on her power, feeling the heat of her where their skin met, already achingly vulnerable as he looked up from under his eyelashes at her.

Nope. He wanted her but he wasn’t going to lay it all out on the line. Battered as it was, Benny still had his pride. No more words. She would understand what he meant, even if he had to show her.

Benny moved slowly, softening his grip on her arm as he began to close the distance between them, giving Beth every opportunity to step away. She didn’t move, but he saw her eyes flick to his mouth for a second. He could feel her breath, warm on his face, and realised she was breathing shakily too. He let his hand ghost up her arm, over her shoulder to cup her jaw, his fingers barely touching her neck, his thumb tracing her cheek. He was staring at her lips now, slightly parted, as he brought his other hand to her waist, gentle as though she were a wild animal he didn’t want to startle.

Benny dipped his head, bringing their faces close, his lips hovering over hers, an unspoken question. He could feel her body arcing towards him, her chin lifted, their silhouettes forming parallel curves mere centimetres apart. For all their height difference, he felt like he was prostrating himself before her, offering himself up and begging her to accept.

For a long moment they stood like that, breathing into each others’ mouths. It was somehow more intimate than any sexual encounter Benny could remember. He was utterly at Beth’s mercy. Their lips grazed, just barely, so he couldn’t even tell which of them had moved. He had expected this moment to go one of two ways: either she would kiss him and they would quickly tear each others’ clothes off, or she would flat out reject him and walk away to her air mattress. He hadn’t expected this subtle transition, from apart to close to closer. It was somehow both less and more ambiguous at once - she hadn’t made an obvious move at all. Now their mouths were dancing over each other, skimming but never connecting. Benny felt completely intoxicated, as though inhaling her breath like this was getting him high.

When Beth’s right hand came to rest, ever so softly, against his ribs, Benny felt like he’d been electrocuted. He felt the jolt go straight to his already straining jeans and a quiet gasp escape his lips. Her breath hitched in response and she allowed her touch a little more pressure, sliding her thumb over his flaming skin through his t-shirt. Benny tilted her head and let his lips graze down her jaw to her neck, feeling her arch into his touch.

From the most fast-paced, frenetic game of chess of his life to the slowest, most delicate moment of intimacy. The contrast felt insane and perfect and maddening and Benny thought his heart might beat out of his chest. The adrenaline of earlier had somehow morphed into this exquisite, excruciating moment, and Benny couldn’t tell if he was more thrilled or terrified. He just knew that Beth was touching him and he was ghosting his mouth over her neck and _she wasn’t pushing him away_.

Benny took a deep breath, savouring the scent of Beth’s perfume, delicate and familiar but with a sultry depth to it he’d never noticed from further afield. He exhaled slowly, feeling her shiver as he brushed his mouth back to hers, cupping her face with both hands now. He wanted so badly to wrap his arms around her and crash their bodies together, to devour her mouth and neck and the soft swell of her breasts, to pick her up and throw her onto his bed and completely lose himself in her. But this was Beth Harmon. It was her move and he’d spend an eternity in this moment if she chose it.

 _Beth Harmon. Beth_ fucking _Harmon_.

Who on earth gave him the right to get this close to something so powerful, so beautiful, so beyond his comprehension? All the times she’d brushed past him in the kitchen, all the times their fingers would touch while resetting the chessboard and he’d force himself to keep his eyes down and his face impassive, all the times he’d let her change in his room, willing himself not to picture her undressing so close to his bed. All the dreams of her he’d awaken from, flushed and furious at himself and utterly electrified.

“Benny.”

He shivered as she whispered his name against his mouth.

Benny didn’t think he could speak so he drew back just enough to look at her. Her eyes were still closed, and she was gasping just a little. It was the most gorgeous sight. Then her eyes fluttered open, fixed on his mouth. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth slowly, and finally dragged her gaze to meet his. Her pupils were utterly blown, as Benny was sure his were as well, and her cheeks were flushed. She reached up and stroked a stray curl out of his eyes.

“I still like your hair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have watched that scene an obscene number of times. I don't wanna talk about it, ok? Smut coming soon.


	2. Fire and ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I still like your hair.”_
> 
> Benny was frozen. Beth’s fingers were still playing with the stray curl of hair she had just brushed from his forehead, her right hand still caressing his ribs.

_“I still like your hair.”_

Benny was frozen. Beth’s fingers were still playing with the stray curl of hair she had just brushed from his forehead, her right hand still caressing his ribs. He could feel a voice within him screaming, _kiss her, touch her, strip her naked and run your hands all over her, **take her**_. But this move, the subtlety, the softness… He had expected something more decisive from her. Was the ball back in his court now? Or was she still considering, her fingers still on the piece, not yet conceding her turn?

He held his breath as Beth looked at him appraisingly, thoughts hidden behind those eyes, even as the heat of her belied her desire. She let her fingertips sketch a line from his brow over his cheekbone and down his jaw to his lips, following the movement with her gaze. She traced the shape of his mouth, the soft curve of his Cupid’s bow, her skin tickling the hairs above his upper lip and Benny managed to half suppress the shiver her touch elicited. Not that he could hide anything from her now - she was looking through his skin, sensing every nerve and muscle.

Benny could tell she wanted him. She had shown her cards at the bar back in Ohio. He could tell from the way she held his gaze when they played chess, from the way she moved around his apartment as if the space were her own, the strategic carelessness with which she flirted with the boundaries of privacy, sitting around in his towel for longer than necessary after a shower, leaving the door to his room slightly ajar while she changed. The rare times he would forget his own rule and touch her, like when she found the mistake in Reuben Fine, he would catch the sudden tension in her body, the shift in mood, the intensity of her look.

But now Beth had him, and she knew it, and she knew that he knew it too, and she was still… playing. The momentous clash of mutual desire he had expected was not coming, but nor was she leaving. She was looking at him with curiosity, examining his lust with a forensic eye, learning his reactions to her tiniest moves. Was she toying with him? Or with herself?

Normally this kind of teasing would make Benny snap, play a bold move, force a queen trade, anything to get the ball rolling. But she had unwrapped him of all his arrogance, dominance, decisiveness. He was laid bare before her scrutiny, no more strategy, no more honed technique. He just wanted her to _do something_.

He could feel the word _please_ clawing its way up his throat, but he wouldn’t. He would beg with every fibre of his body, but he would not give her that. He would bite his tongue, hold on to this one piece he didn’t dare give her, didn’t even want to admit was already burning to sacrifice itself at her feet, shatter itself against her, burn to ashes under her gaze. Not yet. Not with no net to catch him. He had already made himself so vulnerable. He couldn’t afford to lose that much to her all at once. He bit his lip to keep the word inside.

Suddenly, as though compelled by this, Beth was leaning up. She tugged his bottom lip back from between his teeth with her thumb and softly, so softly, captured it between her own. Benny had always thought it was ridiculous when people talked about “seeing stars”, but there were fireworks behind his eyes as Beth gently moulded her mouth to his.

Benny’s hands were still cradling her face and he realised it was his move now but he was still frozen, unable to see ahead where any potential moves would take him. He felt blind, illiterate, as though someone had just asked him a question in an unfamiliar language. He couldn’t read her reactions at all, had no idea what kind of response she would play to anything he might do. His mind was screaming at his body to _do something, anything_.

Then Beth’s hands slid to his chest and he was kissing her back, still delicate, matching her movements. It felt like he was doing this for the first time, all his experience rendered useless. It wasn’t like kissing anybody else, where he was confident in his actions. He wondered what she was doing to him, why every fractional movement was suddenly terrifyingly important. This was a game in micro-moves, and Benny had never realised before that he did intimacy in macro. Bold statements, bold decisions, bold touches and kisses and thrusts.

But this was like dancing on thin ice. Everything he did could be the misstep that cracked the fragile surface beneath him, sending him to his doom. His mind was racing, unable to catch a handhold, skittering over her glassy surface. All at once he felt scared by how petrified he was. This was too intimate. Too vulnerable. Beth could - would - leave him shattered in a way no one ever has. And he was letting her, letting her take him apart piece by piece. He was practically doing it for her, handing himself to her on a silver platter. Was this how she felt when he beat her at their first competition together? Had she been this afraid of losing?

Benny wanted to break this delicate moment, to take her forcefully and reassert his dominance. To show her that he isn’t some innocent schoolboy, utterly at her mercy: he’s a hot-blooded man with a craving. He knows it’s not that simple, knows he can’t act out of stubbornness, arrogance, pride. Not with Beth. But this is Benny Watts, and he can’t change who he is.

He makes a decision to be daring on a micro level. He can scale his actions to meet her parameters, if that’s what it takes to hold onto a tiny piece of himself.

Benny tilted his head ever so slightly, deepening the kiss by a fraction, and let his teeth graze Beth’s lip. She gasped softly into his mouth and her hands on his chest pressed harder. For a gut-wrenching moment he thought she was pushing him away, but then her fingers bunched into the fabric of his t-shirt and she pulled them closer together. Her hands slid up into his hair and he wrapped his arms around her, one hand settling on the back of her neck in a gesture that could have been possessive, if this weren’t Beth Harmon.

Her body was pressed against his now, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis. He pushed his hips softly against hers and was rewarded with a quiet mewl as she felt his erection through their clothes. Her fingers tugged gently at his hair, and Benny was so hypersensitive from the delicacy of this dance that he couldn’t bite back the moan elicited by this subtle sensation. His heart was hammering in his chest, his breathing shallow and laboured. He had had sex that left him less hot and bothered than this.

Beth knotted her fingers more tightly in his hair, a deliberate, calculated move this time. She was still reading him, still analysing. He growled, leaning further into the kiss, making her arch up to meet him, her breasts pressing harder against his lean chest. He slid one hand under the loose folds of her shirt and cupped her lower back, the heat of her skin hitting him like an electric shock as he pulled her closer still. Beth’s mouth opened and Benny met her tongue with his own. She shivered under him.

Benny felt feral and still couldn’t believe she was affecting him this much with so little. He took a half step back towards his bedroom door, pulling her with him and paused, listening with his whole body to gauge her reaction. The movement wasn’t lost on Beth and she broke the kiss, her forehead resting against his, breathing hard. They stood like that for a long moment, bodies still pressed together, chests heaving in unison, before she looked up at him.

Beth’s eyes were dark and intense, her lips pink from their kissing. Benny wanted to say something, to progress this moment in the direction he was so desperately craving, but he was no longer thinking in words.

Gently, Beth extricated herself from the embrace, and Benny felt cold at the loss of her body on his. His stomach clenched and he held his breath, wondering if she would say anything to him or simply turn and walk away to inflate her air mattress. Wordlessly and without breaking eye contact she lifted her shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor beside her.

There was a long pause, the silence seeming to gain weight and texture around them as Benny’s gaze trickled over Beth’s form like warm honey. There was a hint of gooseflesh up her arms and across her décolletage - a word Benny had learnt from Cléo as they had checked women out together from the booth of her favourite bar in New York, she rolling her eyes at Benny’s indelicate description of the waitress. Cléo’s knowing smile from earlier flashed back into Benny’s head. _She had no idea_.

When Benny finally dragged his eyes up from the soft plains of Beth’s stomach, hesitating on her pale breasts for an indecent and satisfying fraction of a second, he saw she was still staring at him, expressionless but for a bright spark in her eyes. It was the same way she looked at him over the chessboard and _fuck_ , he was never going to be able to play chess with her again without getting hard.

In an agony of hard eye contact and slow and languid movements, Beth took Benny’s hand and led him into his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She’s ice and he’s fire. Don’t talk to me. I’m fine.
> 
> Kudos and reviews much appreciated. Next up: sexy times! Promise.


	3. Middlegame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benny couldn’t take his eyes off Beth as she walked ahead of him into his room.
> 
> Beth ups the stakes and Benny just hopes he can hold on for the ride.

Benny couldn’t take his eyes off Beth as she walked ahead of him into his room. She dropped his hand when they were inside and turned to once again fix him with that stare. He was hardly breathing, every sense on overload as he watched her. She flicked her eyes pointedly to the door and without looking away from her he reached out and pushed it closed behind them. She approached him again, still those achingly slow movements, and reached towards the hem of his shirt, gently tugging it from his waistband and lifting the fabric. Benny raised his arms, letting her remove the barrier and discard it. The sound of his necklaces tinkling back to his chest was loud in the silence.

Now it was her turn to look. She did so unreadably, drinking in the sight of his bare torso, and not for the first time. Sweltering New York summers held on tight into autumn, and Benny had told himself he wouldn’t change the way he acted in his own home while Beth stayed with him, but he couldn’t ignore the thrill of her eyes as he lounged around his apartment in various states of shirtlessness. He had noticed a hunger in her gaze, and sometimes wondered if it were her innocence unmasking her like that, or if she knew exactly what she was doing. It had bothered him how much he’d liked it.

Beth raised her hands to him once more and Benny could hardly bear the intensity of her skin on his. She skimmed her fingers from his stomach up to his chest, sending another jolt straight to his groin. She followed her hands with her eyes, and hesitated, stroking absent-mindedly at the chains he always wore. He wondered when - if - he would stop being afraid that she would run away from him. When they were naked? When they moved to his bed? When he was inside her? With a wrench he realised that even if it went that far, he would still be terrified that she would disappear, flit away like the wild animal she was. He would always feel against the clock with Beth.

At last her eyes met his, and for a split second her façade cracked. Whatever desperate expression was written on his face made her breath catch. Could she read what he was thinking? Could she see his fear, his powerlessness, his defeat? Did she know how utterly she had conquered him?

As if in answer to his unspoken words, Beth leant up and kissed him again, firmer this time. It felt almost like a reassurance, _I’m here, I want this_. Her hands were exploring his bare flesh, and Benny momentarily lost control. He turned them, slamming her back against the door and she hissed as the cold glass met her bare skin. He felt her nails dig into him and forced himself to pause, pulling back to see her face, cupped between his hands, his eyes asking. Beth’s hands found his wrists and she held his gaze for a long moment, chest heaving.

Her fingers tightened, his bracelet digging into his skin as she guided his hands down to cover her breasts, and then his mouth was back on hers. Beth arched her back into his touch, the feel of his fingertips brushing her nipples through the thin fabric. A soft moan escaped her throat and Benny bit her lip as the sound travelled through him like lightning. He pressed his hips to hers, crushing his hands between their bodies, and Beth moaned again. He slid his arms around her and pulled her away from the door, never breaking the kiss as he turned them and walked her backwards to the edge of his bed.

He guided her onto the mattress slowly, taking care not to let her fall away from him. She shuffled back, her hungry mouth never leaving his as she made room for him to cover her body with his. On all fours above her, Benny dragged his lips away from hers to scorch kisses down her neck. He felt anxious to show her his prowess, to show her he played this game as well as chess, that he knew how to make a woman shiver and moan and shake. He wanted to make Beth sweat, and not how he’d done it on the chessboard. He captured her earlobe with his teeth and she responded by raking her nails down his back, earning her a soft groan in her ear.

Benny began to kiss down Beth’s body, relishing the taste of her soft skin. He captured her nipple through the flimsy fabric of her bra and felt her chest rise off the bed towards his mouth. He lingered there, cataloguing her reactions as he teased both breasts with his lips and tongue. Her fists were knotted in his sheets and her head was thrown back against the pillow, a sight he knew he would never forget.

He continued his path down her body, nipping her with his teeth and then soothing with kisses. As he neared the waistband of her slacks however, he felt her grow tense. He slowed his movements, focussing on cooling the fire within him. He made himself move gently and deliberately, ignoring the urgency of his feelings. He pressed one final kiss to her stomach and looked up. Beth was staring down at him, her brow furrowed, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

“Is this ok? Do you… Should I stop?”

His own voice sounded gravelly and ragged in his ears. Beth hesitated and then shook her head, a quick, almost nervous movement. Benny straightened his arms, forcing himself away from her body.

“Beth…”

They just looked at each other for a long moment. Benny watched her frown unknit slowly, and she reached out a shaky hand to brush the hair from his eyes. He felt a tentative smile tug at the side of his mouth and he saw her lips quirk in response. The next thing he knew, she had lowered her hands to begin unbuttoning her slacks. They held eye contact while her fingers worked. When she was finished she raised a finger to touch his mouth tenderly. She tugged softly on his bottom lip and then let her hands fall back to her sides, an invitation.

Benny lowered his mouth once more to Beth’s abdomen, curling his fingers into the waistband of her pants and easing them down as he kissed the newly exposed skin. He broke contact for long enough to let Beth shuffle the slacks off entirely, too engrossed by the sight of her laid out before him to find any humour in the inevitably awkward moment. Her stomach whooshed in as he approached the hem of her underwear and he ran his lips from hip to hip, barely making contact, letting his breath caress her.

Benny settled himself on his knees between Beth’s legs, freeing his hands to explore her bare thighs. Into his mind unbidden came a montage of all the times he’d coveted those legs, stealing looks as she breezed around the apartment in her navy miniskirt, trying and failing to tear his eyes away when she’d reach up to a high shelf for a pan, the hem lifting with her movement. And now here they were, bare before his eyes, his touch. He tried to control the headrush that came with such free access, keeping his contact smooth and light.

Beth gasped as his lips moved lower, his hot breath penetrating the cotton of her underwear. Benny let himself linger, not wanting to rush any moment of this. His fingers ghosted up her thighs, curling under her ass and gently squeezing as he pressed his lips firmly against the soft rise of her pubic mons. Her hips twitched under him, tilting to encourage his mouth lower. He couldn’t resist glancing up at her as he obliged, running his tongue over the damp fabric at her apex. He caught her eye for just a second before the pressure caused her to throw her head back into the pillows, her chest jutting as her back arched.

His senses were full of Beth, the sight of her flexing with pleasure, the sounds of her breath coming fast, the scent and taste of her heat, the feeling of her soft skin against his hands. He could feel his erection throbbing against his clothes as he kissed her sex, his lips moulding to the soft curves of her. Her hips rocked up to meet him again, demanding more pressure. He rode the waves of her body, keeping his touch light, teasing them both.

“ _Fuck_.”

The sound was barely a word, a soft fricative punctuated by a hard plosive, drawn seemingly unbidden from her helpless throat. Benny’s eyes closed hard at the sound, feeling his body spiral in response. Knowing he was causing Beth Harmon to lose her composure like this was simultaneously glorious and humbling. He felt so honoured, so privileged to be in this position, his usual hubris in tatters.

Benny crushed his lips against the edge of her underwear, his mouth half brushing the skin at the very top of her inner thigh, and Beth’s hands were suddenly in his hair. Her fingers tangled in his golden waves, pulling him harder against her rising pelvis. He pressed his tongue flat against her centre, the thin cotton already slick with want. He felt his own hips spasm in response, desperate for friction.

He leant back, slipping his fingers into the waistband of her underwear and Beth lifted herself, letting him slide them down her. Benny caught one raised leg as he pulled them off, dropping them carelessly off the side of the bed. He watched her watch him press kisses from her ankle up the inside of her leg as he lowered himself back down to her, settling her thighs on his shoulders, before returning his focus to his goal.

The soft curls between her thighs were strawberry blonde, a fairer shade than her hair, and he drank in the sight of her, his whole body ravenous. He ran his tongue languidly between her folds, the feeling of her, hot and wet and fully exposed under his mouth making his head spin. Beth cried out at the contact and Benny repeated the motion, mapping the shape of her. He wanted to be an expert in her body, a cartographer of her sex. He wanted to study her, memorise her. He wanted a fucking PhD in Beth Harmon’s body.

She was already shaking and undulating under him and Benny snaked his hands around to her lower stomach to anchor her. He flattened his tongue again and licked a slow, broad stroke from her centre up to her clit, lingering there. Her breath was coming short and hard and she let out a strangled cry as he closed his lips around the bundle of nerves, sucking softly, letting the suction tug and release as he pulled back. Beth’s hands scrabbled against the sheets for purchase and Benny groaned against her heat, repeating the movement. She was writhing now, gasps and cries and half-words meeting his ears with each exhale.

“Fuck, Benny, fuck, oh my god…”

Her hand found his and he intertwined his fingers with hers, shocked by the strength of her grip. He redoubled his efforts, sucking and releasing her clit quicker and quicker until she cried out, her whole body stiffening, her free hand grabbing the back of his head. He locked onto her clit, pushing her through her orgasm, squeezing her hand like a drowning sailor gripping a liferaft. They spun together in that endless moment, Beth’s body spasming, her eyes screwed shut, her mouth wide in a silent scream of ecstasy.

At last she fell back to the bed, all tension gone from her body. He growled out a low breath, pressing a kiss to the fair curls beneath him. Her climax had been so earth-shatteringly beautiful that Benny was amazed he hadn’t finished with her. Amazed and relieved. He didn’t want this to be over yet.

He released her hand and crawled back up her body. Benny waited, watching the various expressions that crossed her face as she got her breath back. After a minute her eyelids fluttered open and she looked up at him. However wrecked she looked lying there, her hair spread out around her on his pillows, her eyes hooded, her lips parted for her still shuddering breaths, he would have put money on it that he looked absolutely ruined. His hair surely a mess from her frantic hands, her wetness still on his mouth and unveiled want in his eyes, any remnants of cool or calm he may have held onto were utterly destroyed.

Beth’s eyes roved over his face, drinking in the sight of him. He saw her expression fill with fresh want and almost let out a sigh of relief.

“Are you…” His voice broke and he cleared his throat. “Was that ok?”

In answer she snaked her hand around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss, licking his lips curiously, meeting his tongue with her own. He forced himself to respond gently, fighting his own ravenous hunger.

“Beth,” he murmured between kisses. “What do you want?”

She pulled back an inch and stared at him.

“More.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More VERY soon. What can I say? I'm starving for these two.


	4. Endgame, or adjournment?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _More_.”
> 
> Benny had been hoping. Hardly daring to hope. But she wanted this. She really wanted this. Beth Harmon wanted him.
> 
> _Beth_ fucking _Harmon_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away from me, so enjoy all 3686 words of it.

“ _More_.”

Benny had been hoping. Hardly daring to hope. But she wanted this. She really wanted this. Beth Harmon wanted him.

_Beth_ fucking _Harmon_.

He felt like a groupie and he hated himself for it. He wanted to worship her, yes, but not like that. He wanted to show his reverence for her in a different way. As an equal.

_You’re not her equal, and you know it._

This woman, this infuriating, intoxicating, maddening, seductive genius had truly kicked the pedestal out from under him. Or maybe just climbed up beside him? Either way, it was new territory for Benny.

How dare this outsider, this kid from nowhere with a sob story muscle in on _his_ podium? How dare she take his gold and give him silver with a smile, like it’s generosity? Well fuck, there was only a step between second and first place, and he could touch her from there.

Beth pushed herself up on her elbows beneath him and he sat back to give her room. Her knees squeezed his thighs as they sat face to face on his bed and she kissed him again, a slow, burning kiss. He felt her fingers begin to work on his belt and he reached behind her, deftly unclasping her bra. His hands took advantage of the free access to her back, roaming and stroking.

Beth sighed against his mouth, finally winning her battle against his belt and shrugging out of her bra before starting on his button fly. The feel of her hands so close to where he wanted them was driving Benny wild and he fought the urge to take over. He wouldn’t patronise her by helping unless she asked, no matter how much he wanted to. Instead he raised himself slightly on his knees, giving her easier access. She had to lean up to keep their mouths connected, and the feel of her lips reaching for his threatened to go to his head. His impatience was getting the better of him.

“Just pull, they’ll come undone,” he growled into her mouth, surprised by the huskiness of his own voice. She bit his lip in reply, a playful admonishment, but she followed his advice. He was forced to break the kiss as he sat up higher on his knees allowing her to roughly yank his jeans down his thighs. _There goes that perfect composure_.

Beth eyed the tent in his boxers, the hint of a satisfied smirk playing at her kiss-swollen lips. For his part, Benny took the opportunity to look at her, now fully naked beneath him. He was once more struck by the now familiar choking sensation as it registered that he had _Beth Harmon_ naked in his bed. He was on the verge of shoving her back down to the mattress to reclaim her mouth when her fingers brushed him through his underwear.

A shock ran through Benny and he grabbed Beth’s shoulders to steady himself. She looked up at him through her lashes ( _fuck_ ) to gauge his reaction as she traced the outline of his erection with her fingertips, and Benny was gone. The best poker-face in the world would have crumbled in that moment. She watched him gasp, experimenting with the pressure and placement of her touches, one moment stroking him from base to tip, the next curving her hand to cup him as best she could through the fabric. Her eyes bored into him, curiosity and passion with an unmistakable hint of victory. Winning really suited her.

“God, Beth,” he murmured as she grazed the head, where his want had been beading since before they had even made it to his room.

“Yes, Benny?” she breathed, tickling his skin as she leant forward to press her lips to his stomach, just above his waistband. His eyes rolled up and he dropped his head back at the warmth of her mouth. She hummed, pleased at the effect she was having on him.

Beth paid him back for his earlier actions with torturously slow kisses along his waistband. Her hand was still resting on the front of his underwear and he knew she was noticing every twitch she elicited, cataloguing his reactions just as he had done with her. He had never been with someone who got so inside his head without uttering a single word. Benny knew he fucked as well as he played, but Beth Harmon fucked _just like_ she played. At least she did if she fucked anything like she kissed him.

He wondered idly where she’d learnt to do this, to take someone apart in bed just like she took them apart on the board, and quickly extinguished that thought when he found it made his throat constrict in a totally different way.

_Get out of your head, Watts._

Fortunately Beth helped draw him back to the moment by slowly tugging his boxers down, following the fabric with her lips. She reached the base of his erection and Benny’s head shot back up. He hadn’t thought she would do this, hadn’t even considered it enough to consciously write it off. But sure enough as Beth proceeded to bare him entirely she let her mouth glide over him. He knotted his hands in her hair, rougher than he’d meant to, and tilted her face to look at him.

“You don’t have to.”

She fixed him with _that_ stare, the one she wore when she already knew she’d won, even before he did.

“I know,” she whispered, and took him in one hand, holding his gaze as she brought the tip of him to her mouth. Benny thanked a higher power that he had a shred of self-control left in him not to finish immediately as the warm wetness of her wrapped around the head of his throbbing cock. She ran her tongue experimentally across the tip and his fingers tightened in her hair, his eyes falling closed once more. She repeated the movement, firmly and then delicately. Benny’s hips stuttered forwards against his will and after a quick intake of breath Beth took him deeper.

She pushed forward slowly, getting used to the feel of him in her mouth, before drawing back for a breath. A low grunt came through Benny’s clenched teeth as she took him in again and she understood, beginning an exquisite back and forth motion. He felt her flatten her tongue to make room for more of his length, and-

“Jesus Christ, where did you learn to do this?”

Benny mentally kicked himself as she pulled away. He forced himself to look at her and she was smiling, her lips still brushing him as she replied.

“Right here.”

And Benny could hardly compute what she was telling him. He felt like this revelation warranted a conversation - some kind of acknowledgement at the very least. But he was drawing a blank. His mind was still reeling from this information when she returned her attention to his length, engulfing him with slow, methodical purpose. If he hadn’t been able to think of what to say before, he definitely couldn’t now.

It took him a second to realise his fingers were still tangled in Beth’s hair and he forced himself to relax his grip. He wanted her to know she was entirely in charge of this. His breath was coming in hitches and starts, the muscles of his stomach taut as he tried to control the freight train of pleasure coursing through his veins. He wanted to give her time to play her move, but she was making things very hard.

“God you’re a quick study,” he bit out, barely registering the words as they left his mouth, and he felt her smile around him. His hands fell back to her shoulders, digging his nails into his palms to try and keep himself from being totally overwhelmed. _Not yet_ …

“Beth-”

She must have registered the urgency in his voice because she retreated. He felt her shift as she cocked her head to look up at him, but he had his eyes firmly clenched shut, teeth buried in his lower lip, the sharp bite giving him some much-needed focus. She was holding his hips in both hands and he felt her thumbs flutter over his skin in soothing, petting motions. He concentrated on getting his breathing under control before finally opening his eyes.

He looked down at Beth, naked and dishevelled before him, her gaze searching. Benny sat back on his heels, bringing their faces level again. He dropped his hands to her thighs and she shivered.

“You’ve never done that before?”

Beth shook her head, a shadow of self-consciousness crossing her face.

“Was it ok?”

Benny huffed a laugh. “I don’t think I need to answer that.” She smiled, the same smile he had seen when he compared her to Borgov, the same one as when Cléo had clapped for her after the three rounds of speed chess earlier. She really liked to be praised. “Are _you_ ok?”

Beth looked confused. “Yes. I enjoyed it.”

Benny laughed again, his eyebrows raised.

“What?”

“You’re just full of surprises.”

She gave him that stubborn defiant look and it almost took his breath away. There was a beat and then Benny’s mouth was back on hers, one hand sliding to her lower back, guiding her onto the mattress beneath him. He readjusted himself over her until he was straddling her right leg, angling himself so that he could run a hand from her neck over her breast to her stomach, waist, hip, thigh. He lifted her leg so she bent her knee and then applied gentle pressure. She responded, dropping her knee to the side, opening herself up to him.

Beth whimpered softly into his hungry mouth as Benny traced his fingertips up her inner thigh, matching the slowness of her earlier movements. He reached the top and slid a finger through her wetness, feeling her whole body tense at the contact. He teased her, circling her clit and exploring her soft folds until she was panting into their kiss.

Finally he grazed her clit directly and Beth arched up into his touch. Benny repeated the movement, stroking languorously, contradicting the frantic energy of her responses. She squirmed under him, lips and tongue insistent, demanding more, but still he took his time. He guided her unhurriedly through her pleasure until her legs began to twitch and she clutched as his arm, urging him faster. Benny slipped his tongue into her mouth as he quickened his movements and Beth came undone, a sudden spasm wracking her from head to toe. Without waiting he slipped his finger deep inside her and curled against her tensed walls.

She broke from the kiss with a scream, her head dropping back against the covers. He repeated the firm beckoning motion over and over, soon sliding a second finger to join the first and feeling her squeeze around him. The orgasm he had interrupted dragged her with it to new heights and she seemed to be coming for minutes on end, her cries growing choked, interspersed with long periods of silence as she held her breath. Benny dropped his face to Beth’s neck, kissing along her throat, shoulder and collarbones. Her hands flailed for a hold, gripping the sheets, then his shoulder, then his hair, then his arm again. Benny felt his erection throb in time to her ragged breathing as he drew back to watch her.

Beth’s head dropped to the side as her arched body dropped into harsh shudders, her breath coming hard and rhythmically in time with her convulsions. He softened his movements, allowing her to return to him as her climax passed. He let her breath calm a little before pressing his lips to hers again. She kissed him back indolently, her mind still racing through her body, chasing the blood throbbing in her veins. He began to withdraw his fingers and she moaned in protest.

“Beth,” he panted against her lips. “Can I…?” He pressed his hard length against her hip. She arched up into him automatically and he pulled back to look at her. “Have you… done _this_ before?”

“Not much,” she admitted, her shield finally lowered just a little.

“Do you want to?” He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, and almost managed.

She gazed up at him, her face flushed, a sheen of sweat on her forehead, her eyelids heavy. _So beautiful_.

“Yes, Benny,” she whispered, and he shivered at his name in her mouth. He kissed her then, quickly and sloppily, before reaching over her to his bedside table, fumbling in the top drawer. He returned with a foil package and she watched him tear it open and roll on the condom.

Benny returned to his place between her legs and she crooked her knees up, tilting her pelvis towards him. He kissed her once more as he positioned himself at her entrance and then they watched each other as he slid into her. Beth’s eyes widened and her breath hitched as he filled her, moving as slowly as he could until their bodies were flush together. He rolled his hips, withdrawing only a little at a time at first. Their breathing syncronised with his movements and they gasped together at the peak of every thrust.

As gradually as he could manage, Benny extended his range of motion, pulling further out of her each time before burying himself deep inside her again. Each withdraw was almost painfully gentle; each return came in a rush. He pulled slowly out of her almost the entire way and Beth cried out as their hips snapped back together.

Her arms snaked around his neck and he slipped his own under her back, pulling her up to sit on his lap. She ground her hips against him, arching her back as she tangled her fingers in his hair. Benny wrapped his arms more firmly around her, pulling their bodies close and they rocked together. Beth’s knees were spread wide, pressing herself as hard against him as she could and Benny dropped his lips to her chest, kissing the swell of her breasts. She gripped the back of his head, gasping into the air above them. He braced his forearm around her hips, pulling her into his pulsing movements, his full range of motion temporarily sacrificed for this exquisite closeness.

He felt Beth’s walls begin to tighten around him and pulled her hard against him, grinding into her as much as he could.

“Oh shit, Benny, fuck, _fuck_!”

Benny pushed her back to the mattress, hooking her legs over his shoulders as he thrust hard into her. She arched up, reaching for his mouth and they kissed messily as he pushed her towards oblivion. Before long she was collapsing into the bed again and Benny watched her come, head thrown back, throat bared, eyes pressed shut. The sight seared itself into his brain and he knew he would think of this every time they played chess, every time he saw her, every time he heard her voice or read her name in the papers for the rest of his life. She was so beautiful like this, completely undone, as open to him as he had ever seen and yet still so unreachable. He bit back his urge to speak, to give voice to these thoughts, this worship.

Beth’s eyes fluttered open in the middle of her ecstasy and Benny felt like he was falling through the floor. He was utterly gone, enraptured, engulfed by her.

“Benny, oh Benny-” her voice cut off in another strangled cry and he felt the words crawling up his throat. Benny knew that if he held her gaze much longer he was going to say something he’d regret. Something irrevocable. Something that would change things even more than this night already had. Something he wasn’t even ready to admit to himself.

In a quick, liquid movement, he shrugged her legs to one side, rolling her over beneath him. He straddled her thighs and guided himself back to the slick heat of her centre. Beth let out a loud, wanton moan as he entered her again, slipping deep into her from this new angle. He grabbed her shoulders, giving him the leverage to thrust at full speed, his hips slapping against her ass.

The sounds of their bodies coming together hard and fast coupled with Beth’s choked cries and the heat of her back on his chest caused the tightness in his lower abdomen to twist and suddenly his own voice was joining hers, jagged and rough. He felt his body stiffen and his erection twitch as he gave three powerful, stuttering thrusts before exploding inside her. He groaned as he felt himself pulse, his whole body tensing above hers.

Benny collapsed on top of Beth, her sweat wetting his parched lips as he pressed them to her back. He could still feel her walls throbbing around his spent cock as she twitched herself still beneath him. Her chest rose and fell in hitching breaths beneath his cheek, gradually smoothing back out.

“That’s what it’s supposed to feel like,” Beth breathed between gasps. That familiar fierce pride swelled in Benny, but with it came panic. He had never experienced something like this, never felt what he was feeling right now. He had never had to worry about the words that would usually tumble freely from his mouth during sex. He didn’t normally have something so raw to hold back.

What did this mean for them? What would happen in the morning? There were still weeks left before Beth’s flight to Paris. The time felt both terrifyingly endless and excruciatingly finite.

Beth rolled her shoulder, nudging him. “Hello?”

He knew he had to say something, but he didn’t trust himself. Didn’t trust his feelings. He couldn’t risk scaring her off. She couldn’t know how much this had meant to him. What did they even know about each other besides chess?

Chess. That was their language. That was safe. _Talk to her about chess_.

“You should play the Sicilian.”

“What?”

“In your game with Borgov, you should play the Sicilian.”

“Why? It’s what he’s so good at.” She shifted under him, readjusting her head on her arms. Benny almost scoffed. As if her comfort zone could endanger her, a player of her genius.

“It’s also what you’re most comfortable with. You should always play your line, never his. You play what’s best for you.” _You’re the best player there is, Beth Harmon. Borgov can’t touch you. None of us can touch you_.

“Thank you. Anything else?”

This was good. They were talking about chess, just like before. This hadn’t changed things. Hadn’t ruined them.

“One more thing. They never say ‘check’ at the big tournaments.”

Beth tensed beneath him. “Are you serious?” She raised her head, nudging his gently.

“Yeah, very. They never lay their kings down either.” Benny’s heart rate was almost back to normal, his panic subsiding. _We’re gonna be ok_.

“I meant, ‘Are you serious? This is what you’re thinking about right now?’”

Benny’s brow furrowed. His pulse spiked again. He’d miscalculated. She didn’t want to talk about chess. She had wanted him to say something else. Something real. His mind raced, all the words that had been beating at his chest just moments ago once again clamouring for attention. But the move had been made. He couldn’t take back the inane conversation he’d just started, anymore than he could take back the pawn that left his queen open to her bishop. Or the things he’d just done to Beth. Never had chess seemed more trivial.

He thought she knew, thought she understood him, could read between the lines. She was such a genius on the board, seemed to know everything he was thinking - to know exactly when he wasn’t really thinking about chess. He had been so afraid to say something too real, to admit this wasn’t casual, wasn’t just a roll in the hay. To offer her that final piece of himself. He hadn’t thought that was what she wanted. What _did_ she want from him?

It was too late. Beth pushed up roughly from the bed, shrugging him off her - out of her - and dragging the covers over herself, never turning to look at him. Benny shuffled back, confused, furious with himself.

“Goodnight, Benny.” Her voice was imperious, almost covering the hurt. She settled her head on her arm, curling tight and falling still, her body language a clear end to the encounter.

Benny stared at her back, trying to grasp how things had turned sour so fast. She had wanted him to acknowledge what had just happened between them, that was clear. But how? What had she wanted him to say? What could he have said that wouldn’t have tipped the scales in the other direction, making this too real? He wondered if he’d ever be able to fix this. Would he ever be able to say what he really meant around Beth?

All the times they’d sparred, eyes sparkling, delighting in their unique blend of cynicism, wit, flirtation and self-congratulation. All the looks stolen across the chessboard, when they both knew that chess was the furthest thing from their minds. The intimacy of what they had just done, bared to each other physically, and almost, _almost_ emotionally. Could Benny even be that kind of honest? Could Beth even handle it?

Benny had always known she would run. He’d known even as he’d kissed her, even as she’d touched him, even as she’d cried his name. He just hadn’t known it would happen so soon.

Or how much it would hurt.

He looked at the shape of her, here in his bed but already a thousand miles away from him. His mind was still racing. Maybe he could fix this in the morning. Or sometime over the next few weeks. Or when she got back from Paris. Maybe there was still hope. Maybe…

He settled himself on his elbows, resigned to a night of kicking himself instead of sleeping.

“Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Maybe is a loser's word, Beth._
> 
> LOOK WE KNOW IT HAD TO HAPPEN, I'M SORRY. I hope all the filth makes up for the pain. We know they're gonna be ok eventually.
> 
> So this is it for this ~~one~~ fourshot. I have many more ideas for these two, may even do some follow-up on this particular story. So if you'd like that, please review and tell me so!


End file.
